Walk Back
by Anna Fugazzi
Summary: Alternate ending remix of mizbean's Walk On, on skyhawke. Her summary: Ron learns letting go of the one you love is the only way to move forward. My summary: Ron did the right thing... didn't he?


**Author Notes:** This is a remix written for the livejournal community hdremix. I got **mizbean** this year. Got all bouncy-happy all her shiny stories, and picked Walk On to remix. Mostly because I loved it, but also in part because I have a huge soft spot for Harry/Ron ;)

**Pairing(s)**: Harry/Draco, with a side of Harry/Ron and Ron/Hermione.  
**Rating**: R.  
**Warnings**: Mentions of het.  
**Summary**: Ron did the right thing in Walk On. Didn't he?  
**Disclaimer**: Characters not mine, or they'd have a lot more sex - er, I mean, fun. Paragraphs 4, 5, 6, 20 and 29, and Hermione's boots, are also mostly not mine. They belong to **mizbean** :)  
**Author's notes**: It's best to read this _after_ reading Walk On, as it's an alternate ending, but it can be read as a standalone as well. Go read Walk On anyway; it rocks :)

Many thanks to **scrtkpr**, for wonderful beta and for clearing up many throat-clearings ;)

**Day 1**

It was totally mental, what they were doing, said a little voice in Ron's Firewhiskey-fogged brain. Though Firewhiskey couldn't really explain all of it.

Granted, it had been a bit upsetting to have his first mission back after being injured go balls-up. Also upsetting to be forced to hide in this safe-house with Harry, whom he'd tried so hard to avoid for such a long time, and Draco, whom he'd never liked. Especially as they were now a couple, though Draco had a somewhat less than romantic way of describing their relationship. Still, when Draco had suggested this little ménage or whatever it was they were doing, Ron should've really known better than to go along with it, Firewhiskey be damned. Because it felt too good. And Ron had berated himself for ditching Harry and straining their friendship for too long, and what they were doing probably wasn't going to lead to anything good, for any of them. It might put a further strain between him and Harry, make Ron regret the past even more - hell, it might even endanger whatever it was that Harry and Draco had together...

But it felt so damned good, he thought dazedly as the three of them kissed and nibbled and removed one another's clothing, all of them caressing each other, though most of the action seemed centred on him and Harry.

Draco had settled down beside them, watching them and Ron hesitated, glancing at him once. Draco held his gaze, his expression guarded. He finally raised an eyebrow, as if he was impatient with Ron to get on with it, and Ron realized that this was as much as an acknowledgement of permission from Draco as he was going to get.

He pushed Harry's legs apart easily and crawled on top of Harry. "I want you," he hissed, feeling their bare cocks brush together, "so bad." _Fuck_. He was not going to last long; he never had with Harry. His hand fumbled down to their cocks and he squeezed them together, almost keening. "Harry," he groaned. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad."

"Ron," Harry whimpered, "I-" Harry looked away, looking right into Draco Malfoy's eyes and something in Ron grew demanding and reckless. "I want to. Can I?"

Harry was staring at Draco, who was no help at all; just gazed back at him impassively. Ron thrust against Harry, not bothering to stifle his moan, and felt a thrill of triumph as Harry ground back automatically, gasping.

Look at me, Harry, Ron thought bitterly. Just this once, look at me and not him. I was your first friend. I'm the one who stuck by you through so much at school. I was an idiot and I lost you, but let me have this at least.

He barely suppressed a shout of triumph as Harry dragged his gaze away from Draco and drew Ron down, bringing their lips together, closing his eyes, and relaxing back onto the floor. Ron levered Harry's hips up, murmured a lubrication spell, and started preparing him, his hands shaking as Harry moaned under him. He lubed himself hastily and was about to press into Harry when he stopped.

This would almost certainly be the only time he would ever get to do this. No need to rush it; the memories would have to last a lifetime.

He slowed down, kissed Harry deeply, worked his way down Harry's neck and chest, then lower, taking him into his mouth and pressing a hand to his own groin as Harry's groan of pleasure nearly sent Ron over the edge.

Merlin, how could he have thrown this away? What a complete arse he'd been.

He waited until Harry was nearly delirious and begging before finally entering him, biting down on his lip in concentration as Harry's warmth surrounded him. Harry got up on one elbow and took Ron's mouth in a slow kiss, one hand caressing the hair on the back of Ron's head, giving himself to this as he did everything else - with all his heart.

And it was perfect. So damned perfect, what he'd wanted for so long, what he'd thrown away without realizing. He thrust slowly into Harry, holding his hips in place, feeling his heart speeding every time Harry moaned and pushed himself up at Ron, and it wasn't very long at all until they were both coming, hard, crying out in what sounded like simple pleasure but was made up equally of gratitude and regret - for Ron at least.

They held each other close, panting together, Harry's hands still ghosting over Ron's back slowly, then drew apart a bit. Harry grinned at Ron, then turned to Draco, disheveled sleepy contentment on his face. Draco's eyes were guarded as he took the hand Harry held out to him, and he smiled and kissed Harry's fingers gently.

"Did you want-" Harry said, making a vague gesture at his own body.

Draco's eyes raked over him, a smile quirking one side of his mouth. "Don't think you're really in any shape to go again right now, do you?" he said dryly. He came closer and Ron regretfully moved to get off Harry. Draco shook his head quickly. "Don't, stay where you are," he said, and kissed Harry quickly. Harry made a soft sound of protest as Draco moved away, and Ron felt a chuckle from Draco as he put a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Go to sleep," he said, and Ron looked at him curiously. Draco gave him a half-smile. "Sleep."

Putting his head on Harry's chest, Ron did as he was told.

**  
Day 2**

"Holy fuck!"

Harry woke with a start and sat up, reaching for his wand with his heart racing. What the-

He and Hermione gaped at each other for a moment and then her eyes dropped down and he followed her gaze to... Ron.

Ah.

Yeah, that was probably worth a swear word or two. Sometime during the night Ron had withdrawn from him but it was still quite excruciatingly obvious what had happened between them. He pulled the blanket up, feeling himself blushing to the roots of his hair.

"Erm. Ron." He shook Ron's shoulder. "Ron. Wake up."

"Whu?" Ron rolled over, and the blanket slid down. Harry twitched it back over him before Hermione could get more of an eyeful than she already had. He poked Ron, a bit more roughly, and Ron woke up with a start, a perfect replay of Harry's own waking expression on his features as he stared at Hermione, who was now looking slightly less gobsmacked.

Wonderful. Stark bollocks naked, in a rather compromising position with two men, and he was never going to be able to look Hermione in the eye ever again.

Wait. Not two men. Where was Draco?

Hermione blew out her breath. "Oh my God. Please, I don't want to know what happened here." She turned and walked away, her black boots clicking sharply against the wooden floor. "I am going to kill that Slytherin bastard..." they heard her mutter as she stepped into the Floo. "Headquarters!" she cried, and disappeared.

"Right. That was. Erm." Ron swallowed and started pulling on his clothing, and Harry noted his discomfort with sadness.

"I'll just - er -"

"I'll let you get up and-"

The Floo flashed again in the small sitting room. "Granger says you're up," Draco's droll voice pierced the awkwardness, and Harry looked up as he strolled in, the perfect picture of ease. Of course, why wouldn't he be? He hadn't been woken up in the altogether, giving Hermione a hell of a show. "At least, I think that's what she meant. D'you know, I don't think I've ever heard anybody splutter quite so incoherently before. And I'm apparently a Slytherin bastard. Shock to my parents, I'm sure. The bastard part, that is."

Harry cleared his throat, and Ron held his trousers in one hand, clearly trying to figure out how to put them on without uncovering again.

Draco snickered. "Weasley, whatever you're covering, Harry's already seen. Is this the time to get shy?"

Ron cleared his throat and continued to stare at Draco silently.

"Or is your modesty for my behalf?" Draco chuckled. "Considering what you were doing to my boyfriend last night, I'd say we don't have many secrets from each other either, wouldn't you?" He smirked but relented as Ron blushed even darker. "Oh all right, I'll leave you two alone to make your own fumbling way to the debrief meeting. I don't suppose Granger told you about it? I thought not. It's at Headquarters, by the way. Don't be too long over breakfast; the meeting's in one hour."

Harry heaved a deep sigh as Draco left, thanking God Draco at least was all right with this, because he really wasn't sure he and Ron were. He gave Ron a tentative smile, relaxing into a grin as Ron smiled back sheepishly.

"Shower. Then breakfast."

"I don't think there's much in the larder here," Ron said.

"We'll just Floo to Headquarters, then."

"Right." Ron headed for the washroom, and Harry put out a hand to stop him.

"Ron. You all right with this?"

Ron nodded. "Fine. You?"

"Yeah."

"It's..." Ron cleared his throat. "I'm glad we had that. Last night, I mean." He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "D'you think I should thank Draco?

"I know I should."

"He's... very lucky."

"So am I," Harry said.

"Yeah. Guess you are." Ron gave him a grin, and Harry impulsively pulled him close and let himself feel the comfort of Ron's bare skin on his own for a few moments. He pulled back reluctantly, not wanting to let his body get any ideas from their position and state of undress.

"He's... I was an idiot," said Ron. "But... I'm glad you're happy. With him, I mean. And I'll hex you if you ever tell anybody I said that."

"Fair enough," Harry said, laughing, and they parted to get ready to go. Ron to the shower, Harry to their packs, checking to make sure everything was in order, getting rid of the empty bottle of Firewhiskey they'd found the night before, and taking his own quick turn in the shower as soon as Ron was done.

Not too bad, he thought as they walked into the debriefing room with five minutes to spare, though he wished they'd at least been able to scrounge up something more breakfast-like than a few stale pumpkin pasties at the Headquarters kitchen.

"How was the mission last night?" Dean asked.

"Marvelously relaxing," Draco said. "Got chased by Death Eaters."

"Oh, simple job, then."

"Yeah, we figured, you know, Ron's first mission back, we'd take it easy," Draco said. He passed Harry a plate of toast with jam.

"Since when do you like jam?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "More Draco's preference than mine, but I don't mind," he said, and took a bite. "Thanks."

"Mhm," Ron mumbled into his pumpkin pasty and Harry leaned closer to Draco as Hermione started the meeting.

"Right, well, there's been a bit of a change in plans. Draco made a few discoveries while you two were... sleeping," Hermione didn't so much as blush, and Harry suppressed a sheepish grin. "The Death Eaters who followed you last night found the safe house."

"What?!" Harry and Ron sat up, startled.

"Well, not exactly," said Draco. "Obviously, as we're all still alive and not in their clutches. But I found signs of Death Eater activity all around the building. The protective spell warding the house itself held, but-"

"But if they were circling it that shows they know there was _something_ there," said Harry. "They shouldn't be able to do that."

"Was one of the Confundus spells set wrong?" asked Ron.

"I checked," said Draco. "The spells are all working the way they should. I couldn't find anything wrong with them."

Ron nodded. "I'd like to take a look."

"Don't trust my judgment, Weasley?"

"I do, but two sets of eyes are better than one."

"We've got plenty of people checking right now," said Hermione. "I want you to concentrate on something else: tracking the group that followed you there."

"Ugh. That's Yaxley's thugs," Ron said. "We were supposed to be tracking the Carrows."

"Somebody else will track them. You led them to the house; they may have a special connection to you. Dean will join you and I want you in two pairs. Dean, just so you know, what the others were doing..."

Thank God Draco was all right with what had happened, Harry thought as his mind wandered while Hermione filled Dean in on the mission background. His thoughts kept returning to last night, to Ron's touches, his closeness, to Draco stepping back and allowing Harry to take what he'd wanted for so damn long. To the feel of Ron, his warm freckled skin and his gentleness and all that Harry had been missing, longing for, for so bloody long.

So different from Draco. The way your favourite kind of breakfast is different from chocolate, but you don't want to live without either.

And now he didn't have to. Not that anything physical would happen between him and Ron again, but it was nice to feel like they could at least have their friendship back. Of course, he wouldn't have been averse to having both Ron and Draco in his bed on a regular basis, but in the real world, that wasn't terribly likely. He'd given himself to Draco and there was no need to complicate things. Still, it felt like the rift was healing between him and Ron, as surely as he'd healed the scars on Ron's chest.

Draco moved away slightly and Harry shook himself, rejoined reality, and focused on their meeting.

"So," Hermione was saying briskly, "one pair will pick up the signs at the south of the safe house, where somebody performed a fairly powerful Dittando, and follow them. The other pair will pick up the signs to the west. It looks like somebody cast a strong Unconfund there."

"I'm with Draco," Harry said, and Draco started slightly. "You're good at Anti-Confundus Charms, right? We'll take the west side."

"Right then," Hermione said, and smiled at them all. "Good luck."

**  
Day 5**

"I'm just glad your dad didn't insist on accompanying us to the restaurant, what with it being a Muggle place," Hermione was saying as she and Ron hurried to the briefing room a few days later.

"He may be off his nut when it comes to Muggles, but he knows when to give people a bit of privacy," Ron said, and he blushed a bit at Hermione's amused smirk. Ron smiled back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

Following on the heels of their last mission, wherein Dean had waxed poetic about his latest girlfriend, Ron had found the courage to both explain the little scene Hermione had walked in on at the safehouse _and_ ask her out, with very nice results. They weren't really officially together yet, but things definitely looked promising. And she'd worn those highly distracting black boots of hers, too - the ones she'd bought during their first disastrous attempt at dating. Ron sighed with contentment and brushed the back of her hand with his, grinning as she stopped near the doorway of the briefing room and gave him a quick kiss.

Now all he had to do was not fuck it up. Again. They broke apart, smiled at each other shyly, and hurried on.

"I'm not challenging you," they could hear Harry saying as they opened the door. "I'm just saying that the cave-"

"You're just saying that you know how their minds work, better than I do," Draco said. "Are you forgetting who raised me?"

"I'm not. I don't. I just think now that the place has gone Muggle, they'll avoid it. There's been no sightings of them there-" they caught sight of Hermione and Ron and shut up.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Draco said. "So, what's the plan?"

"It's up to you three," Hermione began, "but HQ suggests you go to the pub on the island in the Outer Hebrides, the last place Yaxley and company were seen." Draco gave Harry a smug look of triumph.

"It's a waste of time, I'm telling you," Harry began, and Draco's eyes narrowed. "They haven't been seen there for weeks."

"They're bloody good at Obliviating-" said Draco.

"And they don't know how to blend in, they probably wouldn't even know they were doing anything that needed Obliviating-"

"Please!" Draco scoffed. "Do you really think they have nobody who can help with that? Half-bloods are welcome, you know, so long as they don't get too uppity, especially if they can act as-"

"I know that," said Harry impatiently. "But I don't think they have enough familiarity with Muggle customs to keep them from making _any_ waves for weeks."

"You could be right," Hermione said thoughtfully. "It's your choice, of course, but I still think the island is a good place to begin. Besides, Death Eaters have been known to use Muggle places deliberately, knowing we'll be less likely to search for them there."

"Exactly," Draco said.

"Only we'll be wasting our time," Ron pointed out. "And by the time we're done, we'll have totally lost the trail. The cave-"

"It's not a waste," said Hermione. "You may find other information even if Yaxley and company aren't going there any more."

"Or we may find nothing. The cave Dean and I heard of is a fresh place. We should start there."

"The island-" Draco began.

"It's two against one, Draco, come on," Harry said impatiently.

"Fine," Draco said abruptly, his face going blank, and got up. "Let's go, then. I assume you're both packed?"

Ron, Hermione, and Harry frowned at one another. "That's... it?" Ron said, a little confused.

"Like Harry said, it's two against one. And the longer we talk, the colder the trail gets. Let's go, _now_."

"What's with him?" Ron asked under his breath as they made their way out.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged. Harry's boyfriend; Harry's problem. "Oi, Malfoy!"

"Yes?" said Draco impatiently.

"Can't say yeah like a proper human being," Ron groused.

Draco shot him an annoyed look, pushing open the door to the Floo room and grabbing his mission gear. "All right, _yeah_," he said. "What?"

"Did you ever go into any Muggle strip clubs while you were with the Death Eaters?"

"As I was with them when I was sixteen, Weasley, no, I'd have to say I didn't get to that."

"Don't get shirty with me, I'm just asking. Dean's source said the Muggle who bought the place in the Hebrides runs strip clubs in London; we might as well be prepared."

Draco rolled his eyes, and continued to put on his equipment. This was going to be a long, long mission, Ron thought glumly, and flashed Hermione an annoyed look. She tilted her head slightly; Draco Malfoy, what did you expect?

**  
Day 14**

"...so John and Hannah, your Polyjuice is waiting for you at the Potions lab," Hermione said briskly. "Harry and Draco, still on the Yaxley chase, sorry. Ron and Dean, since you're switching to the Hogsmeade team, you'll need to go meet up with Percy upstairs. Not for long, just to pick up documents," she said, and grinned at Ron's automatic groan before packing up her things to leave.

"Draco all right?" Ron asked Harry quietly as the room cleared, Draco leading the exodus.

Harry bit his lip and fiddled with his quill, cleaning it thoroughly before putting it away.

"Harry."

"What?"

"I'm asking about Draco. I don't know why, and you should probably have my head examined." Harry smiled briefly. "But something's bothering him. A lot. He didn't say two words in the meeting, and he's been a bit of an arse for the last few weeks."

"Don't I know it," said Harry.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I heard his father's been sighted, but he doesn't want to talk about it."

"That can't be easy," Ron said, surprising himself that he actually meant it. Actually felt compassion, for the Ferret and his unfortunate family situation. "D'you think that's it?"

"He doesn't want to talk about it," Harry repeated.

"He's being a bit of a pain."

"Not that much out of the ordinary."

"Well, I don't feel like killing him, but he's broody as hell. Are you sure he's not ill? Or maybe I'm ill." They laughed together and headed for the door. Suddenly it opened and Draco hurried back in, going to the Floo.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"I'm going to get Pansy," Draco said, grabbing a handful of Floo powder.

"What?!"

"She's sent up a flare."

Harry's heart raced as he took out his wand and quickly joined Draco at the Floo. "Her mirror? God, that must be-"

"What are you doing?" Draco asked sharply.

Harry blinked. "Coming with you."

"No."

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron. "I - I thought we'd agreed, if she contacted you, that-"

"No, I can do this on my own. I'll be fine."

"The hell you will," said Harry, grabbing his arm. "I'm coming with you."

"Stay here. Keep Weasley company - play chess or... something."

"Wait," said Ron. "What about Yaxley-"

"Harry!" Draco shook Harry's hand off his arm."The Yaxley mission'll keep! Come on, I don't have time for-"

"Besides," Ron said, "aren't you worried that if you go alone - you don't think that some people might be suspicious about-"

Draco gave him a mild glare. "I don't particularly give a rat's arse what people suspect about my loyalties, Weasley. I'm going to go help a friend, and you," he said to Harry firmly, "are not coming with me." He stepped into the Floo, rolling his eyes at Harry's worried expression. "I'll be fine," he said impatiently. "I've got a tracking charm, the Protean Galleon's still in my pocket, don't worry about me."

"But wait! Yaxley-"

"You can handle the prep without me!" Draco said, and Flooed away.

"You see what I mean," said Ron as they stared at the still smoking Floo.

"Yeah, I see what you mean!" snapped Harry. Ron's eyebrows rose. "Sorry." Harry took a deep breath. "I know. But I don't know why, and I don't know what to say to him to get him to snap out of it." He cleared his throat and fidgeted with his wand for a few moments, staring at the Floo, then put his wand away again and headed back towards the door. "So. Erm, how's it going with Hermione?"

Ron stared at Harry. "Harry. D'you really think I'm that easy to distract?"

"Erm... yes?"

Ron smiled sheepishly, giving in, and Harry gratefully dismissed Draco from his mind as they changed the subject and left the Floo room.

**  
Day 30**

"Morning," Ron mumbled to Harry two weeks later, stumbling into the kitchen at Headquarters. He pushed open the cupboard and glanced at the pantry, famished and a bit dehydrated.

This new... whatever it was, that he and Hermione had, was going to do him in, he was beginning to suspect. Who would've guessed that underneath her rather severe manner was somebody so uninhibited, so passionate, so incredibly... well, all right, truth be told _he_ had sort of guessed that that was what she was like underneath it all, especially after their somewhat botched first attempt at dating, so long ago. Or maybe he'd just really, really hoped so. Hoped that her passion for things like elf rights and studying and doing the Right Thing carried over into other areas of her life. Hoped that her penchant for being forthright and demanding would carry over as well.

And oh sweet Merlin, had he been right.

Which was wonderful, really. And an enormous boost to his ego, that she chose to do - well, what she'd been doing last night, for example - with him. Of course, it did leave him a bit woozy by morning, as well as feeling odd aches in the unlikeliest of places, but that was part of the fun.

Bloody brilliant, was Hermione. Scary, but brilliant. Not that he'd had any doubt in the past, but these last few weeks... well.

He gathered up a bottle of pumpkin juice, a couple of pumpkin pasties, some Pepper-Up, and painkillers, and collapsed into a seat next to Harry, quickly consuming the lot. Feeling somewhat human again, he finally glanced over at Harry, frowning as he took in the dark smudges under his eyes and his rather rumpled appearance. "You look like you haven't slept all night."

"I haven't," Harry said shortly.

"Mission?"

"Draco."

Ron sighed. This was getting to be a habit.

"And before you say anything," Harry said wearily, "yes, I've tried to talk to him, and he says there's nothing wrong. And if I press him on it too much, he gets into a snit over nothing, and then somehow we just end up shagging, and then I'm too knackered afterwards to keep up the fight. Angry sex is brilliant, but bloody exhausting."

Ron grimaced slightly. "Erm, too much information, mate. Listen, this really can't go on."

"You don't say," Harry said irately.

"It hasn't always been like this between the two of you, has it?"

Harry shrugged. "He's always moody, but not like this."

"Oh good. Because bloody hell, if I'd known things were this bad between you, I might not have gone to Hermione after you and I did the deed." Harry gave him an amused look, and Ron rolled his eyes. "All right, yeah, I would've. You don't look nearly as hot in high heeled boots."

"That you know of."

"Too much information again." They chuckled together. "So what d'you think is eating at him?"

"I don't know! I really thought things were good with us!"

"They're not."

"I know."

Ron cleared his throat, then hesitantly broached what he hadn't wanted to mention until now. "Speaking of doing the deed... d'you think this has anything to do with us sleeping together that night?"

Harry pressed his lips together and looked away.

"Have you asked him about it?"

"He said it was all right that night," Harry said, shaking his head. "Hell, he's the one who started it. And then he was fine with it the next day."

"Looked like it, yeah."

"And if that's not it, then I don't want to make him suspect anything-" Harry stopped and shook his head. "No, I don't mean 'suspect' - I mean, I don't want him to think that it meant anything to me - no, that's _not_ what I mean, because it _did_ and this is coming out all wrong, but I don't want him to think that, you know... and what if I say something and then he..." Harry's incoherent words ran out as Ron continued to hold his gaze.

"I'm seeing Hermione," Ron said quietly.

"I know."

"I'm not a threat to him."

"I'm not sure he knows that," Harry said softly.

**  
Day 40**

"Nice vintage," Draco said, swirling the wine in his glass and looking at Harry over the rim. "And a lovely bruschetta as an appetizer. What's the occasion?"

"Why? Can't we just have a nice dinner together?"

"Is there an occasion?"

"How about tracking down Yaxley?" Harry said, smiling.

Draco's answering smile didn't reach his eyes. "Considering the fact that we literally stumbled across him through sheer dumb luck and we're still not sure how his group was able to find the safehouse in the first place, celebration might be a bit premature, don't you think?"

"Finally getting Pansy immunity and getting her safely out of the country?"

"That was a week ago."

"Then can't we just have a nice dinner together?"

Draco gave him a grim half-smile. "Or is there something you want to say to me?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "Is there something in particular you think I might want to say to you?"

Draco gazed at him levelly as he sipped his wine, the bruschetta lying untouched on his plate.

Finally Harry sighed and looked down. "Ron and I were talking a few days ago, and he thinks..." he looked up and saw Draco's expression shut down, and his heart sank. He cleared his throat. "Ron pointed out that we started having problems right after that mission we went on." Silence. "Erm. You know, the night that Ron and I, er..."

Draco turned away. "Did he."

"Is that what the last few weeks have been about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm talking about the fact that we don't talk any more. That all we ever do together is fuck. That you won't even be in the same room with me for more than a few minutes without turning into a... a grim bastard with a wand up his arse." He paused, frustrated by Draco's lack of reaction. "Frankly it makes me want to strangle you."

"Why, exactly? Am I being rude to you? Or to anybody else, for that matter?"

"No, you're being extra-courteous. Did you learn that from your father?" Harry wanted to slap himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Mentioning Lucius was never a good idea around Draco.

"Courtesy? As a matter of fact, yes, I did," Draco said icily.

"You know what I mean. This fake courtesy thing you do, where you insult the hell out of whoever you're pissed at but don't actually say anything they can object to. Passive-aggressive rubbish." He winced at his own words, realizing that perhaps having left this confrontation until he was unable to rein in his own frustration and anger had been a very bad idea.

Draco put down his wine glass, stood up, and walked out of the room. Harry followed him.

"So this _is_ because I slept with Ron. Stop running away from this and face it like a man."

Draco stopped and turned around. "_I_ should face it like a man?" he repeated incredulously. "What have I got to face, exactly? You're the one who fucked Weasley!"

"You said we could, you started it, you encouraged it!"

"You're the one who wanted it!"

"Only because _you_ said it was all right! For God's sake, Draco! I can't read your mind!"

"Are you serious? You couldn't figure out that I might not want you to fuck somebody else?"

Harry paused, struggling to control his temper and try to be reasonable. "All right, maybe I should've said no. But I wanted to for so long and-" oh bloody hell, that was probably the most wrong thing he could've picked to say.

"I knew that," Draco said quietly.

"But - no, look at me! I said I'd wanted it for a long time, but I didn't need to do it! If you'd just said - you're the one who takes sex lightly, you're the one who calls what we do fucking, you've never said a single word to make me think you feel otherwise-"

"And I'm not about to, either."

"And what if I want you to?"

"You've got a funny way of showing it, sleeping with another man - a man you were pining after for years."

"_You said it was all right!!_"

Draco looked away, lips pressed together.

"That was a test, wasn't it?" Harry said bitterly. "A bloody test, and I failed it." He took a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What, give you a test where you already know the answer? I'm shocked, Gryffindor."

"I love you, you bastard! And I know you feel the same way! And - look, I love Ron, but it's not the same! He's - I'll always want him, I can't help that, but he's _not_ who I want in my bed for the long term."

Draco nodded distantly.

"You're not just a person I fuck until I get tired of you," Harry said urgently. "You're... you insulted me when you said that. I know how I feel about you. I know what I want from you, and I know you can't say the words back, I know you're prickly and sarcastic and messed up, and you have what I would most kindly call a checkered past, and none of that matters, I still love you." Harry paused for breath. "And if you choose to keep acting like a prick or, or you choose to end this now, fine. It'll hurt like hell and then we'll both get over it. But keep in mind that it's _you_ doing the leaving, not me. I didn't sleep with Ron and then go back to second best. I came back to _you_."

"I'm touched. Really. May I go now?"

"Fine, get the hell out, then. You bastard." He ran a hand through his hair. "You're a complete prick. _You've_ fucked this up, don't put it on me."

Draco turned on his heel and walked out the door.

Harry rubbed his forehead. What a fucking piece of work. Draco Malfoy, mind-game player extraordinaire. Harry threw the nearest breakable object across the flat, and it exploded spectacularly before even hitting the wall from the sheer force of his frustration and anger.

He dropped into a chair, his head in his hands. Stayed there for a few minutes, calming himself, then stood up, sighed, and muttered a Reparo at the pathetic shards of the vase he'd thrown.

Bloody hell. How long had he been worrying about this conversation? And he couldn't have imagined a worse outcome.

Well, all right, he could have, but he had also imagined it going a lot better. He'd tried so hard to draw Draco out gently in the last few days; thought that maybe if he got him relaxed and in a good mood tonight, he could discreetly bring the topic of Ron out into the open and they could discuss it like mature human beings... and then all that had gone out the window, and the Unmentionable had splatted gracelessly out there between them: "That night that Ron and I, er," about as subtle as a knee to the groin. And now Draco was gone.

Wonderful.

And was this really a surprise?

Draco Malfoy, encouraging him to sleep with his best friend, then going off in a snit about it. Not bothering to deal with Harry, of course not; just distancing himself and throwing away what they had together, for no good reason.

And probably hating himself the whole time, too. "I'm just somebody people fuck because they can, then they get tired of my shite and move on," he'd told Ron that night. And _this_ was a person Harry had thought would be secure enough to not be affected by the current bloke who "fucked him because he could" fucking somebody else? Somebody said bloke loved, and had admitted to wanting for a long time?

Harry wondered how long Draco had been thinking that way, how long he'd been wondering when Harry was going to get tired of his shite. How long he'd been preparing himself to get ditched. He groaned, thinking of Draco's face as he spotted the lovely wine and bruschetta on the table tonight. It had probably screamed 'Let's just be friends' louder than a singing telegram, seen in that light.

He sighed deeply. They were so alike, Ron and Draco. So unconvinced of their own worth; Ron by his crowded and poverty-stricken childhood, Draco by God only knew what, exactly, but it probably had a great deal to do with Lucius Malfoy. They would have been horrified to have anybody point out that similarity to them, but there it was.

And did Harry really have what it took to deal with this shite? From both of them? Ron had buggered off on him more than once, and would probably do it again someday. As would Draco, in all likelihood. If not now, at some future point in time, he would get in a snit and scarper off, and it would hurt, and Harry would try to fix things, and eventually they would be fixed - or not - but there would be pain and scarring and...

He sighed. Was this really worth it? They'd had a couple months of very nice friendship and fucking that Draco didn't call love, and then weeks and weeks of this shit, with Draco and his issues. If this was the ratio of good to bad times...

He rubbed his eyes, resolving to wait till morning before deciding whether or not to try to work things out, because sure as Hagrid loved lethal creatures, Draco Malfoy was not going to be the first to apologize.

He should probably tidy the rest of the flat too, he thought, heading back to the living room. Deal with his anger and sorrow and frustration through physical labour. Or rather, delay onset of said feelings through physical labour, because what had just happened hadn't sunk in yet. It really felt like this couldn't be over, couldn't be the end; Draco had just gone downstairs to get the owl post, he'd be coming up the stairs in a moment, Harry would hear his footsteps, he could almost hear them now...

Wait a minute. He did hear footsteps. Somebody slowly coming up the stairs, opening the front door of the flat. He headed back to the front hall, where Draco was hanging up his cloak. Harry crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, staring at Draco, anger and uncertainty warring within him.

Draco stood nervously, not looking at Harry.

"Well?" Harry said challengingly. "Come back to get your things?"

Draco snapped his head up, to say something nasty, no doubt, then checked himself and looked away again. "I..."

"Are you?"

Draco took a deep breath, and Harry realized he was biting his lip nervously. His own anger died down slightly.

"Draco."

"Yeah."

"Are you..."

"I, erm." Draco was fidgeting, he was actually openly showing his nervousness and uncertainty, and... and maybe even a bit of what looked like hope.

Harry approached him slowly, stopped a few feet away from him and waited for him to elaborate. Finally he spoke up cautiously. "I think the words you're trying to say are either 'I hate you, and I'm leaving' or 'I'm sorry, and I was a moron.' Is it A or B?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Erm. B." He cleared his throat again. "Part of it, anyway."

"Which part?"

"The first."

"You're not a moron, then?"

"You're the one who was unfaithful," Draco said stubbornly.

"With your full support and permission," Harry pointed out evenly. "At your suggestion."

"What kind of idiot takes that kind of suggestion seriously?"

"This one, apparently. What kind of idiot makes that kind of suggestion in the first place if they don't mean it?"

There was a long pause. "This one, apparently."

"It just never seemed to mean much to you," Harry said slowly. Draco looked up, puzzled. "Sex, I mean. I know you've slept around a fair bit, including when you were going out with somebody. I don't know if you've done it to me, but-"

"I haven't. That's not the point."

"It's that I did it, isn't it?"

Draoc nodded reluctantly.

"Double standards much?" Harry said evenly.

"You're not the type to have meaningless sex," Draco blurted.

"It wasn't meaningless. Ron's my best friend, and I've loved him for years. That wasn't a quick fuck to get rid of an itch."

Draco looked away.

"But it's not meaningless with you either," Harry said gently. "You're not just someone I fuck just because I can. I won't get tired of your shite, and I don't want to move on."

Draco sighed.

"Look, I've chosen _you_. Not Ron. We're not actually compatible in that way. Even if things have improved between him and me, both of us are pretty aware that we wouldn't ever work out as a couple."

"If you weren't with me, would you try again with him?"

"He's with Hermione, you know."

Draco made a dismissive motion. "For now. Would you?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. I hope I wouldn't be that stupid. We didn't work out years ago, and we wouldn't work out now."

Draco tilted his head uncertainly.

"It's a moot point, though. Because I am with you." Harry paused. "Am I?"

There was a long silence. "Yeah," Draco said softly.  
"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"You've been a real barrel of laughs the last few weeks. Can I look forward to more of this? Are you going to keep punishing me for what I did?"

Draco's lips pressed together, and Harry realized he was probably pushing his luck. He sighed. "All right, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. It doesn't matter."

Draco frowned at him suspiciously.

"I'm tired. I don't want to fight about this any more. I don't want to talk about it."

Draco nodded curtly. "Should I be going, then?"

"Don't be daft; we haven't finished dinner. Didn't even start it."

Draco glanced at the table. "I'm not hungry any more."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I won't apoligize for what I did, but I am sorry it made you feel... whatever you felt."

Draco turned slightly, hanging his keys on the hook, fiddling with them idly, his back to Harry. "I didn't think you'd actually do it," he said, his voice low. "And when you did, I didn't think it would make that big a difference to me." He swallowed. "It did."

"I love you," Harry said, walking up behind him quietly and putting a hand on his shoulder. "You know that. I tell you often enough."

Draco shrugged again, and Harry stepped behind him, enclosing him in his arms. He rested his chin on Draco's shoulder. "Just... don't do that again. Don't tell me I can do something when you really don't want me to." Draco nodded slowly, his shoulders stiff, and Harry smiled against his cheek. "And stop worrying about Ron. Nothing like that is ever going to happen between us again."

"Would you want it to?"

There was a long silence while Harry mulled over his response. Debated being honest versus being smart. Because it was painfully obvious that telling the truth wouldn't reassure Draco, but... oh what the hell, smarts had never been his long suit.

"I would, yeah. I love him. If I could have both of you in my bed, I'd be the happiest bloke in the world. Who wouldn't want that? More opportunities to get laid, not to mention watching you and him snogging was incredibly hot." Draco started slightly. "Don't tell me that's a surprise."

"The two of us? You liked that?"

Harry chuckled. "_Intensely_ hot. Trust me."

Draco nodded uncertainly. "All right..."

"Did you like watching us? If you hadn't been feeling jealous, would you have liked what you saw?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Draco mumbled uncomfortably.

"Well then." Harry took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'd love it. If things had worked out great, and you'd actually been as OK with the whole thing as you seemed to be, I might have thought of giving it another go. Not the three of us all the time; just us together, with Ron as an added bonus once in a blue moon, whenever Hermione could spare him." He chuckled. "Maybe she could come watch too."

Draco snickered. "She'd probably hex your mouth off for suggesting that."

"Don't be so sure," Harry laughed, remembering a few things Ron had let slip recently about his newly adventurous relationship with Hermione. "Anyway, like I said, it's a moot point. The only person I need in my bed is you."

Draco nodded, and Harry rubbed his cheek against Draco's, eliciting a soft sigh. "As a matter of fact..." he trailed off, nibbling Draco's neck a bit. "Just how hungry are you right now?"

"Beg pardon?" Draco asked, a bit breathlessly.

"For food," Harry murmured. "Can dinner wait?"

"Yeah. I suppose so. Though you shouldn't leave the wine out-" Draco stopped as Harry pulled him back to the table and picked up the nearest glass.

"We'll finish it up, then," he said. "Bottoms up." He downed half the glass in one go.

Draco sniffed. "That's too fine a vintage to guzzle down like that; you've no respect at all for-"

"Draco," Harry said, and poured the rest of the bottle into their glasses, "Would you like to discuss the vintage and maybe talk about whether the grapes that made this were grown on the east or west side of the field, or would you like to have make-up sex?"

Draco took his glass, drained it, and turned in Harry's arms, taking his mouth in a kiss. Harry grinned against his lips, tasting the wine - really should thank the Headquarters kitchen elf who suggested it - and ran his hands into Draco's hair, relishing the feeling of closeness unhampered by hostility or uncertainty. Realized it was the first time he'd felt this in weeks. Impossible to pinpoint what was different, exactly, but whatever it was felt wonderful.

"Come on," Draco said, pulling him to the bedroom, and Harry shook his head. "What?" asked Draco.

"No, let's stay here," Harry said, pulling a pair of cushions off the sofa and sinking down onto them.

"That's the floor," Draco said, sounding a bit peeved.

"The floor, yes, I noticed. Come on, live a little," Harry said, and pulled him down.

Breathing an impatient sigh, Draco sank down next to him, and Harry pulled him closer, feeling a bit of a buzz from the wine, and wondering at the suddenly thoughtful look on Draco's face. He rolled over, pulling Draco on top of him, moaning as Draco slowly bit his way down his neck, feeling a wonderful burn of arousal pooling below his waist.

"Fuck, yeah," he breathed. Not that he'd want to give up the urgency of anger-tinged sex - not that he'd ever have to, seeing as how he and Draco couldn't go a few days without a major row - but he'd missed this kind of sex too. The tenderness, slowness, and peace of it all.

Draco was undoing his shirt, button by button, and Harry hastened to return the favour, humming with happiness as their bare skin emerged and immediately feeling more than a bit embarrassed.

Draco laughed. "You make the silliest noises during sex," he murmured into Harry's neck, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"How sexy. Some blokes would say, 'You're so fit, You're so brilliant in bed, You give great head' - no, you tell me I make the silliest noises."

"Just being honest. Would you rather I lied to you?" Draco nibbled on Harry's ear, and Harry lost the plot a bit.

"No, that's all right," he moaned, then reached down, grinning as Draco gasped and faltered, then buried his face into Harry's hair, breathing in deeply.

"Did you want nice and slow, or did you want..." Harry trailed off as Draco worked his way down and took Harry into his mouth, making Harry's eyes roll to the back of his head and his already rather muddled senses take flight.

"God, yeah," he whispered, chewing on his lip as Draco worked his magic. "Oh, fuck, yeah."

Draco raised his head, his eyes keener than expected, considering the amount of wine he'd downed in one shot not too long ago. "Should I go on?"

"Fuck yeah, please, _God_," Harry said feverishly."Um. Don't stop, don't stop. Please, please, don't stop..." He was begging and didn't give a damn, this was too good to not beg for more, and Draco was finally - finally! whispering a lubrication spell - which was odd, Draco usually preferred lubricant potion, but he had to admit that the sensation was quite brilliant, and something tugged at his memory vaguely - but then Draco was slowly pressing into him, and Harry got up on one elbow, kissing Draco, surprised and gratified when Draco didn't hurry their kiss as he usually did, but lingered over it, slow and sweet. He caressed the the hair on the back of Draco's head, giving himself to Draco, thrusting up against him as Draco held his hips in place. It was incredible, so intense, so hot, and Draco was holding him close, encouraging him, pouring the love he wouldn't admit to feeling into every caress, taking Harry beyond their argument, their last few weeks of distance, beyond what had happened in that safe house... and then they were both coming, their voices mingled as they cried out, and he felt Draco pulsing deep within him as shivers ran over his entire body.

Whoever invented sex was a bloody genius.

He lay back, exhausted and a bit dizzy from the alcohol and afterglow and emotional aftermath of their fight, and he caressed Draco's back slowly, humming again and not really caring when Draco gave a muffled laugh. He closed his eyes, relaxing in the afterglow, and smiled as Draco took his hand and gently kissed his fingers.

"That was... that was better," Draco murmured, almost to himself.

"Better than what?" Harry asked sleepily.

Draco cleared his throat. "Than... my Pensieve."

Harry frowned. "What Pensieve?"

Draco sighed and started to move off of him, and Harry made a soft sound of protest.

"No, don't go yet," he said, and Draco stopped moving. "What Pensieve?"

"I." Draco cleared his throat again. "I... I watched what happened with you and Ron."

"Yeah..." Harry said slowly, puzzled. "I do remember that part, you know. I wasn't that drunk."

"No, I mean, after." Draco paused. "In my Pensieve."

Harry's eyes popped open, and he stared at Draco above him. "You did what?"

Draco looked away. "I put the memory in a Pensieve and then watched it."

"What for? I thought it upset you?"

"It did. I don't know why I did it." Draco was looking as uneasy as he had when he'd first walked back into the flat.

"Let me get this straight," Harry said slowly. "You went back and watched? Again? Because it pissed you off?"

"I don't know, I thought maybe, you know, it hadn't been that big a deal, maybe it was hot, I don't know," Draco trailed off miserably, and moved to get off of him again. Harry's arms tightened around him automatically.

"Erm. I... don't know what to say. So... what did you think when you watched it again?"

"The first time I didn't really think anything."

"The first time?"

Draco shrugged a bit and tried again to withdraw.

"Bloody hell, stop that, don't move away again," Harry said impatiently. "I'm too tired to chase you down if you're thinking of getting up, and besides, you know I like for you to stay inside afterwards." He gazed at Draco. "Just how many times did you watch it?"

"A few. All right, five times, to be... erm, inaccurate. Seven."

Harry shook his head. "You're a bit of a masochist, d'you know that?"

Draco met his eyes. "You're not angry?"

"Why would I be?"

"I..."

"I'm confused as hell, but not angry. God, Draco. Most people try to avoid things that make them upset. You save them in a Pensieve and watch them obsessively and then work yourself into a tizzy over them."

Draco frowned.

"That's where I remembered that lubrication spell from. I wondered where you learned it." Harry yawned, stroking Draco's hair back off his forehead and closing his eyes, reflecting that Draco's actions might seem a bit creepy, but what the hell. It wasn't as though Harry hadn't done a few slightly creepy things himself in the past, and it wasn't like he could really claim to be shocked; he'd known what Draco was like before they'd started dating, after all. And really, compared to encouraging your boyfriend to shag his best friend as a test of his loyalty, saving the experience in a Pensieve and then watching it a bunch of times seemed pretty innocuous.

He yawned again. "Y'know," he began, and realized this was probably going to come out rather muddled, considering the wine and the post-mind-blowing-shag fog in his brain. "I'd really rather you didn't put me through something like this again. I don't mind showing you I love you, but I'd really rather skip the preliminary angst and just get to the part where we're shagging and it actually feels good. If you want to know how I feel about you, just bloody well ask next time. I love you. You idiot."

Draco gave a short laugh. "I... I can't say it back," he murmured quietly. "Don't know when I'll be able to say it."

"Doesn't matter," Harry yawned. "I think maybe in your own special way, you just did," he teased drowsily, smiling at the way Draco swallowed hard and held him closer, and he let himself sink down into a deep, contented sleep.


End file.
